No overthrown ruler or class in the past ever considered the revolution that overthrew it, and so with the capitalist class of to-day.  Instead of compromising, instead of lengthening its lease of life by conciliation and by removal of some of the harsher oppressions of the working-class, it antagonizes the working-class, drives the working-class into revolution.  Every broken strike in recent years, every legally plundered trades-union treasury, every closed shop made into an open shop, has driven the members of the working-class directly hurt over to socialism by hundreds and thousands.  Show a working-man that his union fails, and he becomes a revolutionist.  Break a strike with an injunction or bankrupt a union with a civil suit, and the working-men hurt thereby listen to the siren song of the socialist and are lost for ever to the political capitalist parties.

Antagonism never lulled revolution, and antagonism is about all the capitalist class offers.  It is true, it offers some few antiquated notions which were very efficacious in the past, but which are no longer efficacious.  Fourth-of-July liberty in terms of the Declaration of Independence and of the French Encyclopaedists is scarcely apposite to-day.  It does not appeal to the working-man who has had his head broken by a policeman’s club, his union treasury bankrupted by a court decision, or his job taken away from him by a labour-saving invention.  Nor does the Constitution of the United States appear so glorious and constitutional to the working-man who has experienced a bull-pen or been unconstitutionally deported from Colorado.  Nor are this particular working-man’s hurt feelings soothed by reading in the newspapers that both the bull-pen and the deportation were pre-eminently just, legal, and constitutional.  “To hell, then, with the Constitution!” says he, and another revolutionist has been made—­by the capitalist class.

In short, so blind is the capitalist class that it does nothing to lengthen its lease of life, while it does everything to shorten it.  The capitalist class offers nothing that is clean, noble, and alive.  The revolutionists offer everything that is clean, noble, and alive.  They offer service, unselfishness, sacrifice, martyrdom—­the things that sting awake the imagination of the people, touching their hearts with the fervour that arises out of the impulse toward good and which is essentially religious in its nature.

But the revolutionists blow hot and blow cold.  They offer facts and statistics, economics and scientific arguments.  If the working-man be merely selfish, the revolutionists show him, mathematically demonstrate to him, that his condition will be bettered by the revolution.  If the working-man be the higher type, moved by impulses toward right conduct, if he have soul and spirit, the revolutionists offer him the things of the soul and the spirit, the tremendous things that cannot be measured by dollars and cents, nor be held down by dollars and cents.  The revolutionist cries out upon wrong and injustice, and preaches righteousness.  And, most potent of all, he sings the eternal song of human freedom—­a song of all lands and all tongues and all time.